Seeing Spock Break
by BlondeOnBlonde34
Summary: Kirk knows that Spock has emotions, deep down, but he's only ever seen them come out twice, and both in relation to him. He learns there was a third time. K/S, post STID
1. Chapter 1

There are two times when Jim's seen Spock completely and totally lose his cool.

The first time was when he'd pushed him to it, forced him. Taunted him. He would feel worse about what he'd said it if the bastard hadn't nearly choked him to death afterwards. He still remembers the look in Spock's eyes before he'd launched himself at him, the cry he'd made. Jim had taken beatings before, but nothing quite that brutal, quite that savage. As Spock's hands closed tighter and tighter around his throat, all he could think was 'Goddamn pointy eared bastard FUCK'. He's not entirely sure which one he was mentally referring to, the one with the death grip on his neck, or the wise old asshole who thought antagonizing his former self was a great plan.

That was angry Spock, berserker, rage filled Spock. As illogical as it might be, Jim wished that the second time he'd seen Spock give into his emotions, it could be that Spock again. Anything but mourning Spock.

No longer trying to throttle him, the second time Jim saw Spock bent over with emotions he could no longer control, Spock was too far away to even touch him, separated by a pane of glass. He wishes he were strangling him again, just so he'd be able to feel one last touch. Jim doesn't remember a lot about dying. His body was shutting itself down; it's a miracle he can recall any of it. But he remembers pain and fear and Spock.

He remembers Spock especially. That one tear, which from anyone else would be a deluge of emotion, just about broke Jim's heart. He remembers wanting to wipe it away, knowing he would never touch a never living soul again. Wanting the last person he touched to be Spock.

He heard, "Because you are my friend," as he slowly drifted out of consciousness. He remembers wondering a little hazily if Spock has ever had a friend before. But soon he's not wondering anything at all.

When he woke up from his two week death coma, Spock was as cool and composed as ever, the one concession to sentiment being the use of his first name. It seems like emotional Spock has retreated once more.

He idly remarks to Bones one day when they're sharing a brandy in the medical bay after hours that he supposes, in that period of time immediately after his temporary death, Spock just logiced himself out of whatever angst he might have felt about his passing, and went back to doing what needed to be done, rational and composed.

A shadow passes over Bones' face that Jim didn't expect. "That's not quite how I'd describe it," the good doctor says carefully.

Now Jim's intrigued. The details of what happened after his death, Khan's capture and the like, have always remained curiously vague to him. It's not like no one's told him anything, but they always change the subject very quickly afterwards.

"What did Spock do?" he asks.

Bones sighs and shifts uncomfortably. With a darting glance he growls, "Look, you can't mention any of this to that pointy ear, but he- well, he went off the rails a little bit. Even by human standards."

Now this is interesting. Jim pours himself some more brandy. "How off the rails?"

Bones looks even more uncomfortable, shifting in his chair. "He was enraged, completely fucking mental. He went after Khan himself, beamed down to the planet. He chased him and chased him, and when he caught him-" Bones cuts himself off.

Jim's like a child listening to a story, leaning in eagerly. He pours Bones more brandy as well, and waits.

Bones takes a swig, and bluntly states, "He beat the shit out of him."

"Who, Khan?" Jim says incredulously. "It's impossible to put a mark on the man. I know, I tried."

"Spock did," Bones responds. "Only time I saw that goddamn bastard Khan bleed."

Kirk digests this information slowly. Cold, calculating, moral Spock, who had expanded countless amounts of energy to remain calm and impartial in the face of travesty, brutally beating a man to near death. Berserker Spock had temporarily emerged, it seemed, because of his demise. It was a strange thought.

"The only way we got him to stop was by beaming Uhura down to tell him we needed Khan alive to save your life," Bones continues. "Nothing else could reach him. Otherwise, Spock would have kept swinging till that man's face was mush."

Bones sighs, and downs the rest of his drink. "If I ever doubted whether that green-blooded Vulcan could feel anything at all, I stopped that day."

Kirk doesn't quite know what to say. He can't imagine how Spock must have felt, how deep that rage and pain went, that he could give in so completely to his emotions.

"Don't mention it to him, alright?" says Bones, getting up. "If I know that man at all, he probably feels uncomfortable about seeming that human."

After Jim has bid Bones good night and went back to him room, he tosses and turns in his bed. Apparently, there are three times when Spock has completely lost his cool, and they're all about him. He does know how to push his First Officer's buttons.

He has to let him know, somehow. That is Spock- if Spock- well, if the same fate befell Spock as befell him, he would feel it just as deeply, and go to the same measures to avenge him.

He jumps out of bed, not bothering to put on shoes or even a shirt. He slips put his room, and hastens down the dark hallway until he reaches Spock's room. He's suddenly nervous, standing at the door. Spock is almost certainly asleep. This is an unsightly piece of human sentiment, and Spock doesn't care. This is stupid.

He turns around, and walks one step away before turning around. No. He has to do this. He's Captain James T. Kirk, dammit! He gives the door a firm knock, and instantly regrets it. This was a terrible idea.

The door slides open with a whoosh. Spock is standing there, looking confused and a little sleep befuddled. He cocks his head when he sees Kirk. "Captain, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Can I come in?" Jim asks.

Spock gives a slight nod of his head, and Jim pushes past him into his room. It's typical Spock; barren, Spartan. It looks unlived in.

Kirk runs a hand through his hair. He isn't quite sure how to begin this.

Spock is still standing near the door, taking in his disheveled appearance. Is it just Jim, or does his gaze linger a second longer than necessary on Jim's chest before meeting his eyes? "Captain, I must admit I am a little confused as to the nature of this visit."

"We're friends, right?" Jim says suddenly.

He's not sure if that quirk of Spock's eyebrow is really surprise, or if he imagines he can read his first officer's face better than he actually can. "I suppose that is how you would term it, yes," Spock responds.

"If I could do it all over again, I would," Jim says in a rush. "I'd do it even if I knew I wouldn't come back this time, just as long as the ship and the crew and you would be safe."

"That is logical," Spock says, taking a step closer to him. "After all, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few." But he stutters a tiny bit over the last word. Jim wonders why.

"I would do it just to save you," Jim blurts out. "You get that, right?"

There's a heavy silence in the air before Spock softly says, "As I would do as well."

There's another silence and Jim doesn't know how to bridge it. The air feels tense and charged, and he wonder for exactly how long it's been like that.

"Well," Jim says, heading for the door. "I've gotta go, things to do, and-"

"Jim," Spock says as the Captain brushes past him, and he grabs his arm.

They're staring at each other, brilliant blue eyes meeting dark brown ones, and Jim for the life of him doesn't know who started it, he swears, but suddenly he's kissing Spock.

It's more heated than he imagined it in his subconscious, barely recognized fantasies. They've managed to wrap themselves around each other in a few short seconds, and Spock's kissing him like he never needs to breathe again. Not at all logical and calculated but warm and alive and Spock and-

He pulls away with a gasp, bare chest rising and fallen. Spock's pupils are blown wid, his perfectly straight hair slightly mussed from where Jim ran his fingers through it. His lips are swollen and all Jim wants to do it keep on kissing them all night.

"I should go to bed," he says, and turns away. He knows where this leads, and it's no good place. It's a dangerous place, in fact.

He makes it one step again before turning around. Spock's standing there, and Jim realizes with a rush this is the third time he's seen Spock lose control. He looks confused and unsure and Jim is sure this is the happiest he's ever been to see his first officer emotionally compromised.

He steps back towards the Vulcan and kisses him, softly, gently, just to remind him he's there. "I'll see you in the morning," he murmurs, before turning around and leaving for good.

He somehow makes it back to his own room without running into anyone or anything. He slumps on his previously abandoned bed, the sheets still twisted together.

'Well, shit," Jim Kirk thinks to himself. 'What the fuck am I supposed to do now?'


	2. Chapter 2

The Captain, for whatever reason, did not get much sleep that night. He had the sort of fevered dreams your mind conjures up when you would swear you'd been awake all night, but physically, you know you must have been asleep for at least a little bit. His mind had been full of nonsensical scenes that melted into one another, hot alien deserts and loud earth bars and green blood. By the morning, he was hot and sweat soaked, the blankets kicked to the foot of the bed and his sheets tangled around his legs. He felt, and knew he looked like, shit.

He couldn't tell if he was excited or nervous for his shift on the bridge. He knew Spock would be there. To tell the truth, he had kind of arranged the schedule so that he and Spock would have most of the same shifts. It was just more fun when he was there. He could tell Spock got his private little jokes just by the slight upward quirk of his lips, knew that there would always be someone in the room to oh so politely call him on his bullshit.

Should he brush his hair? Would that look like he put effort in? Did he want it to look life he put effort in?

Jim Kirk has rarely been accused of over thinking things, but in the case of his First Officer, he could make an exception. In fact, he could make a lot of exceptions.

It wasn't that he wasn't in to dudes. Or aliens. There really wasn't a lot Jim wasn't into. If it was hot, it was fair game. But he'd implemented a strict 'No fucking co-workers rule' that he'd, amazingly, managed to stick to (Except for his constant hitting on Uhura. But it wasn't like she was going to sleep with him anyway because she was dating Spock- oh shit, what was he gonna do about Uhura? You know what, he'd worry about that later).

Jim ran a hand through his hair. He looked good. Maybe not the best he'd ever looked, but still. He was James T. Kirk. He'd saved thousands of lives, beaten the Kobiyashi Maru, and been dead for a while. He could more than handle several hours with his First Officer.

He held this opinion until about a second after he'd stepped out of the elevator onto the bridge. There was the back of Spock's head, and it wasn't turning around and looking at him and saying 'Good morning, Captain,' and SHIT.

He strode to his chair, and casually surveyed the rest of the bridge. Everyone else was just doing fine. Sulu and Chekov piloting, Uhura at her console. Everything was smooth sailing. So why had Spock not greeted him yet?

He sort of wished something would blow up. Jim really did his best work in high pressure situations.

"Sulu, where's our course leading us today?" he called down.

"Nowhere terribly interesting, sir," Sulu responded. "Just doing a quick survey around the planet Wolas."

"Was a landing party in the plan?" Kirk asked.

"Not necessarily, sir, but it could be."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Mr. Sulu."

Why had Spock not yet interrupted? Kirk was certain he knew a million esoteric things about the vegetation of this planet and was probably dying to add his opinion on the logic of a landing party. A silent Spock was proving to be the most frightening kind of Spock.

Kirk was becoming increasingly convinced he'd ruined this apparently fragile friendship.

His mind was elsewhere as he gave the morning announcement over the sound system. Spock still had yet to turn around. The shift went by excruciatingly slowly, with nary an asteroid belt or hostile ship to break up what he was reading as awkward avoidance from his First Officer. When the Alpha shift ended, he booked it out of there so fast, no one else even had time to get into the elevator with him.

Instead of going to the canteen with the rest of the crew, he headed straight for the medical bay. Bones was leaning back in his chair, slowly sipping some liquid Jim hoped was ice tea, but was probably whiskey.

"I need advice," Jim said immediately.

"Let's see the area," Bones said immediately, picking up one of his medical utensils.

"What? No," Kirk answered with both confusion and mild annoyance. "Why is that the first thing you think of? No, I need . . . feelings advice."

Bones had leaned back in his chair, but sat up a little straighter at the last two words. "What have you done now?"

"Can we please stop assuming the worst for five seconds?"

"Fine. Shoot," Bones grumbled.

"So let's say, hypothetically, a captain hooked up with a member of his crew-"

"Dammit, Jim!" Bones exclaimed, leaning forward. "Why, man? And who?"

"This is entirely hypothetical!" Jim retorted. "Besides, it's not important who it is. So let's say after this amorous encounter, things suddenly become very oddly uncomfortable between these two parties- avoidance, mostly. Very out of character avoidance, in fact. So what did I do wrong? Hypothetically," he added hurriedly.

"Well, were you rude to this girl? Treat her badly?" Bones asked.

"Itwasn'tagirl," Jim muttered under his breath.

"Speak up, man!"

"It wasn't a girl, Bones," Jim said, staring at a fixed point above Bones' shoulder.

He heard the exasperated exhale of breath come from his chief medical officer. "Why, Jim? Why do you always complicate what should be very simple situations? Dammit man, why do you always drive a tank into a knife fight?"

"This was not my fault," Jim defended himself somewhat sulkily. "Things just happen late at night that sometimes that you can't control."

"My only piece of advice is to talk with whoever this person is," Bones evaluated. "Just make it clear what your intentions are to them, and it should all be sorted out." He paused. "Please tell me you know what your intentions are."

Jim sighed, and flopped into a seat next to Bones. "Not exactly."

"Figure out what your goddamn intentions are, then," replied Bones caustically. "Just don't break this poor boy's heart; weeping personnel is bad for moral."

"I'm actually a little more concerned about the opposite," Jim admitted reluctantly, running his hands through his hair.

Bones raised an eyebrow. "Has the great Jim Kirk met someone he can't charm?"

"You know what, shut up," Jim said. "I'm unflappably charming."

"That's the spirit," responded Bones, clapping him on the shoulder. "Now go get 'em."

Jim left the med bay, and headed to his private quarters. He'd get the yeoman to bring him up lunch. Food would be highly conductive to his thought process, he deduced. Oh God. He sounded like Spock. Pointy eared bastard, even infiltrating his thought patterns.

What were his intentions? he wondered as he headed towards his room. God, that sounded too much like he was trying to court Spock. He chuckled a little at that image. Woe to anyone who'd try and court Spock.

He would just sit down, and have his nice lunch, and try and figure out to do afterwards. Maybe things would work themselves out after lunch. Or maybe something would explode and he would never have to deal with it ever.

He was still congratulating himself on this plan when he walked through his doors and found his first officer waiting for him.


	3. Chapter 3

"Captain," Spock intoned, nodding his head oh so very slightly.

Jim's hands itched in the same way they'd used to on Earth before he'd joined Starfleet, when he either wanted desperately to fight or fuck. That little itch had led to more than his fair share of bar brawls.

"Spock," he answered, brushing past him, and taking a seat behind his desk. He felt more solid with the desk in between him and Spock, less off kilter.

Spock simply stood there, hands clasped behind his back. He looked immaculate and put together, his hair gleaming and straight, and Jim wondered if he'd been able to get any sleep last night. He hoped he hadn't. For whatever reason, the idea that Spock had just drifted into an untroubled slumber after Jim had left last night troubled him.

"It's come to my attention that the state of our relationship has changed," Spock said, with no more than his normal stiffness.

"What tipped you off?" Jim answered him with an attempt at irony that came off mostly as derision.

A slight upward twist of Spock's mouth indicated confusion. "I believe it was when you entered my cabin last night, and proceeded to engage me in a romantic embrace."

"It was a rhetorical question Spock," Jim said wearily. Suddenly the desk began to seem less and less substantial as a defense mechanism.

"Nevertheless, that event has introduced a sexual intimacy into our relationship that it was previously lacking, and I'm unsure for what purpose it was introduced."

This was the new worst moment of Kirk's life. This beat dying by a long shot. Of course Spock could make a hot make out session like a variable introduced into a clinical experiment, and then want to talk about the ramifications of said hot make out session. Jim wouldn't be surprised if his first officer started keeping a field journal on these encounters in the wild.

"Well, you know, passions run high in certain situations, and I was trying to express to you my feelings of friendship, and well, I guess I got a little bit carried away in those feelings. I can assure you, it won't happen again," Kirk responded, bullshitting as he went along. Especially about the part about it not happening again. Shit, did he want it to happen again? One issue at a time.

Spock tilted his head at him. "Captain, as a touch empath, I believe I received a different impression of events than you did. While you were certainly expressing feelings of friendship, there was also an undercurrent of-"

"I was just in a highly emotional state due to my resurrection. That messes with my emotional field and sends out hyperbolized sensations," Jim interrupted hurriedly. He was completely making up that shit about his amplified sensations; terror and love make spontaneous liars out of us all. "My feelings of gratitude to you for the part you played in that clearly came out erroneously," Jim continued in a tone he hoped sounded equally detached and authoritative. He really didn't want to be discussing his feelings towards Spock with anyone, let alone the Vulcan in question. Hell, he couldn't even manage to discuss them with himself (Reminder: figure out some hopefully nondestructive way to understand his feelings towards Spock).

Spock didn't seem to know what to say. He regarded Jim for a few quick seconds that lasted a lifetime. As he opened his mouth to finally speak, Jim's communicator crackled to life (Oh thank God). "Captain?" said Sulu's slightly tinny voice. "We're reading a transmission from a planet below. It's unlikely to be hostile, but you should still come down to the bridge and discuss landing party options."

"On my way, Sulu," Jim responded. He turned to Spock. "Well, I'm glad we could have this talk. Good thing we got this matter all sorted out." He considered clapping Spock on the shoulder, but seeing as how casual touching had got him into this mess in the first place, he thought better of it.

Before Spock could respond, 'No, they had absolutely not gotten this matter all sorted out', Jim had headed out of his door towards the bridge.

There was a perfectly logical explanation for what happened last night besides him having feelings for Spock, Jim decided as he strode down the hallways with purpose. A million different explanations, in fact. How about this one: he was simply horny. That was it. Case closed.

Jim did a mental check on his libido. It was standard; no worse than usual. He didn't feel the need to jump the nearest hot crew member. In fact, the only person he wanted to jump was pale and dark and-

Okay, so it wasn't overall horniness. Comfort! It was comfort after death, to remind himself of the warmth of life.

He dismissed this option almost immediately. If he was going to go to anyone for comfort, it sure as hell wouldn't be Spock, no matter how he might feel about him.

Jim sighed a little, and sent a glance heavenwards as he entered the elevator to the bridge. How he felt about him. He supposed this was the dreaded honesty time. Yes, his blood went a little faster around the Vulcan, and yes, he did entertain some daydreams, and yes, he loved making Spock laugh more than just about anything in the universe, and yes, he was a little bit in love with his first officer.

The doors to the bridge opened. Jim straightened his shoulders. Right now, he had a potential situation to deal with. Spock could wait.

"What's happening, Sulu?" he asked as he strode to the captain's chair.

"The inhabitants of Wolas have sent up a communication; Lieutenant Uhura is decoding it now. They don't appear to be in any distress, but I believe further inquiry would be in our best interests," Sulu responded, turning slightly away from his console.

"We can send a landing party to the surface," Jim said decisively. "Bones and I can beam down with a security team."

"Sir," interjected Chekov. "I believe a science officer would also be optimal, in case of unusual flora or fauna. Might I suggest Officer Spock, since he is most familiar with these situations?"

Jim's heart sank. There was no good reason for him to ignore this recommendation. Spock would, as always, be best for this job.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Chekov. Officer Spock will be included in the landing party. Sulu, alert the members of the landing party of the proceedings, and tell them to meet me in the transporter room," Jim ordered before heading off of the bridge.

Looks like they were going shore side together.


End file.
